


cinched

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars (Marvel Comics), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aphra Is A Disaster, Bitterness, Captivity, Complicated Relationships, Flirting, Gen, Minor Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Padmé Amidala Lives, Partisan Padmé Amidala, Possibilities for the Future, Sort of One-Sided Padmé Amidala/Chelli Lona Aphra, Team Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: The woman leaned forward and folded her hands over her knees. “What would it take? For you to tell me about him?”A kiss, a quick tumble. Aphra had no idea what to actually say; there was nothing at all that she could think of that would entice her to speak. The truth of the matter was she was scared of that bastard and she didn’t know how in the hell to get out of the web he’d tangled up around her. And now she had this woman staring at her like she had all the answers. But Aphra had nothing. Every plan she had didn’t take into account getting captured at this particular moment in time. Maybe in the future she could have helped, when she was secure in her place in the galaxy so long as it was far, far away from Vader. But right now, they had no leverage on her.





	cinched

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceQueenKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/gifts).



The problem with Aphra was she never intended to get caught, but often found herself in binders anyway. And not the fun kind that Sana might have brought to the table, supple leather that was meant more for show than anything else, but real ones, cold and metal and difficult to break. The sort that bit into her skin and left her wrists raw. The kind that rattled when she moved too much because she’d been chained to the floor in a too-smart bid to keep her from trying to get out of here with only her wits and whatever they might have managed to miss in their thorough search of her person. Really, this shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it was. Anyone who worked as conspicuously for Vader as she did would draw the eye of the damned do-gooders who wanted to rid the galaxy of him.

And, she supposed, unhappy, those same do-gooders might like to get rid of her, too, simply because she was not on their side. Were their positions reversed, she might have dragged one of them back to the Empire with the hopes of ensuring her continued existence. Being in Imperial good graces only lasted so long, but enough goodwill might just save her from stupid shit she’s bound to pull eventually.

She always did in the end.

One day, she might learn a lesson, but today wasn’t going to be that day and tomorrow probably wasn’t looking very good either. In fact, her near future was pretty well blocked entirely. Until she got out from under Vader’s heel, she was screwed. And who knew when that would be.

“Uh, guys?” Aphra called out. Though she tilted her head this way and that, she couldn’t see anything. Even when she tipped her neck all the way back, there was no light beneath the blindfold that covered her eyes. Whoever had grabbed her was thorough and Aphra might’ve admitted she was impressed if anyone showed up and let her have a look at them. The first step to any escape is being able to find the exits and as it was, she had no idea where she was. Jedha, presumably, as she didn’t think she’d been loaded onto a ship and hauled someplace else, but Jedha was big and there was definitely a lot of it to cover. Probably, too, she was still somewhere near to Jedha City, but that was less certain.

Force, she hoped she was still near Jedha City; if not, all of her plans were going to need to be retooled because all of them required people.

Jedha City, unfortunately, was where most everyone on Jedha lived. If she was really stranded, she’d have to rely only on herself and maybe a hijacked swoop bike if anyone around here went for those sorts of things.

“Hello?” she yelled louder. Kicking her chair, she shouted again. She’d keep hollering and pounding the ground with her boots until someone saw fit to come and shut her up. “HELLO?!”

If it got bad enough, she could always start singing. That was bound to draw some attention or annoy her captors to death. At this point, she was okay with either outcome. Yanking at the binders, she tried to lean forward to tug the blindfold from her face.

“I wouldn’t do that,” a pretty, feminine voice said, “if I were you.” The voice sounded familiar, like something out of a dream, faded with age and memory. There was no way she’d be able to place it for certain, but that didn’t stop her ear from trying to figure out just who it was talking to her.

“Holy hells,” Aphra answered, breathless, her heart beat ratcheting up. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“I’ve been here,” the voice replied, half-amused. It sounded almost kind. Not kind enough to put Aphra entirely at ease, but close enough to it that it made Aphra even more suspicious than she already was. Whomever the voice belong to was gifted or lucky or both. Aphra didn’t trust gifts and luck that weren’t her own. Besides, this wasn’t exactly the friendliest of circumstances in which to meet someone. It would make far more sense if Aphra didn’t feel easy at all. Part of her did anyway.

“That’s a little creepy,” Aphra answered, pleasant, hoping she sounded convincingly nonchalant. This wasn’t the first time she’d been captured and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but she couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t happened. She’ll have to be more careful next time. If there was a next time. It was entirely possible that this time would be the last time and all her hopes and dreams were for naught.

She didn’t like thinking that way, but with the shit she’d managed to drop herself into this time? It was bad. Vader was kind of the scariest possibility of them all, but the crap he kept wanting her to do? It was bound to draw attention or piss someone off or both. There was only so much Aphra could do to mitigate that.

“My apologies,” the voice said. Along with it came the sound of footsteps, soft and light, against the dirt—at least, Aphra assumed it was from a lifetime of experience walking around on it—which ratcheted up her heart rate into the stratosphere. Now they were getting somewhere. “I would hate for you to think of us as creepy.”

This one was a joker. That was all right with Aphra. She knew how to work with comedians. Some days, it felt like the entire galaxy was just one stand-up comedy routine after another.

“That would be tragic,” she agreed. “How about we get rid of the blindfold so I can see just who it is that’s captured me?”

“That’s reasonable,” the voice said, “I suppose.” And though it sounded a bit as though they weren’t going to do it, the blindfold fell away anyway. And before her was maybe the prettiest woman she’d ever seen in her life. She was bent before Aphra, her back hunched, and close enough that Aphra could smell the mint that lingered on her tongue. But though she was lovely, there was something hard in her eyes, something terrifying and bleak. She managed to sound so casual, but there was nothing of that in her visage.

Crap.

This was going to be more difficult than she expected. Just what she wanted to deal with.

“Hello, Doctor Aphra,” she said. Short, curling hair fell into her eyes and she absently brushed the locks aside. There was a scar that ran from the back of her ear to the opposite side of her neck and wound down who knew how far beneath the collar of her shirt. It was puckered and red, newish, but healing. It looked painful still, though none of that showed on her face. There was a blaster rifle strapped to her back. “Do you know who I am?”

Aphra had no idea what the right answer was here. Clearly she was somebody if she was asking that question at all, but Aphra couldn’t guess what the optimal answer was in this circumstances. Did she want to be recognized? Did she prefer being incognito? Aphra didn’t know. Squinting, Aphra leaned forward slightly, tilted her head. Something in the back of her mind pinged. Perhaps the truth would see her through. Every once in a while that was what it took. “You look familiar.”

Like someone out of a holovid.

The woman smiled and pushed herself up, wincing as she straightened. It seemed that pain caught hold of her, because for a moment she remained utterly still, her eyes closed. “You work for Darth Vader,” she snapped. Her hands tightened to fists at her side. It didn’t make Aphra any more fearful than she already was, but even invoking his name was enough to make sweat prickle at her palms. When she opened her mouth to answer, the woman added, “There’s no point denying it to me.”

Closing her mouth, Aphra swallowed and nodded. If this was it, she couldn’t have picked a better captor or executioner. She still managed to sound so kind. It was strange and somehow even more terrifying than if she’d been a run of the mill captor. “If you know so much, what do you need me for?”

That got a smile out of the woman; Aphra wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not. “I know very little.” Her eyes bore into Aphra’s, her gaze so intense that Aphra felt like she was being flayed open and exposed. “I’ve learned that over the years. I would have done so many things differently if I’d known more.”

“We all have regrets,” Aphra agreed. Did she sound consoling enough? Or condescending? Did it even matter when the woman didn’t seem to care one way or the other, her focus far away? “Who are you anyway?” It really was bothering her now. She definitely looked like someone, but Aphra just couldn’t quite place her. “And who are you with?”

Might as well shoot for the moon. If she was going to ask for one answer, might as well ask for all of them.

The woman seemed finally to notice she still had a captive to deal with. “You’re currently in a Partisan camp outside Jedha City,” she said. “And I’m afraid I can’t tell you who I am. It would be dangerous both to you and to me.”

Aphra snorted. What an inflated sense of importance. Not so different from most rebels Aphra had come across in the past. It was always the same. They were the only ones saving the galaxy. They were the only ones who cared. Blah blah blah. It was always the same story in the end. And worse, there was no bite to back up their bark. There was nothing they could do that Aphra need fear. “Anyone who’s interested in Lord Vader is in danger. I don’t think your name is gonna change that.”

The woman’s brow arched and a small smile played around her mouth. Aphra wouldn’t have gone so far as to call it smug, but it was somewhere in the neighborhood. Confident. Controlled. Maybe those were the right words. Either way, they made something twist, familiar, in Aphra’s gut.

She’d always been a sucker for women who bought into their own hype.

As the woman took a seat across from her, Aphra’s heart sped up. Damn it, but did she want to give the woman what she wanted. It would’ve been fun if nothing else.

“You seem to know a lot about him,” the woman said, too casual to be anything other than supremely interested. That, in turn, was interesting to Aphra. Sure, your run of the mill rebel had a perfectly good reason to want intel on and insights into Lord Vader and every one of his massive stack of issues. But she made it seem personal, more personal than most could claim. Her eyes darkened and the smile that had seemed almost warm before grew cold and fake as plasteel. “What would it take for you to talk?”

“Uh, no offense, but there’s not a damned thing you could offer me that would get me to talk.” Thinking about that, she added, “Sorry.” Her stomach flipped as she considered the possibility that she shouldn’t have played her hand quite so vocally. If the woman thought she had no reason to keep her around, she could easily dispose of her.

Remember, she thought to herself, rebels are too soft-hearted. She’s not going to kill you just because you won’t talk. It was against their code.

Rebels, Aphra had found, liked to pretend that they were better than the other guys.

“You don’t know how we do things out here,” the woman said, “do you? If you think Saw Gerrera has any scruples about disposing of a ‘rogue archaeologist’ in the cold Jedhan wastes, you’re sorely mistaken. Frankly, I’m of half a mind to let him.”

She winced. She’d maybe shouted her job at the first person who tried to grab her in the hopes of scaring them off. Not her finest moment, but at least it still wasn’t her worst. Didn’t do any good either except give them more information than they’d had previously. Good going, Aphra. Maybe next time just tell them exactly where Lord Vader was and have done with it. Maybe being locked up in rebel prison would save you from retribution.

No, no, it probably wouldn’t. Lord Vader would find her and gut her. And every rebel that crossed his path.

But hey, maybe this woman would get what she wanted. Surely she’d have a few minutes to relish coming across her quarry before he took her life from her. Maybe she’d like that.

Maybe that was the goal.

But she was getting ahead of herself. The woman—and by extension, the Partisans—hardly knew anything about Aphra, about Vader, about the Empire as a whole. And there was no way Lord Vader was coming for her because he had no reason to. Not yet anyway. Might not even ever unless he thought she’d given him up to them. Which was a very distinct possibility if only they discovered they didn’t have a heart to guide them toward better behavior.

“I find that doubtful,” Aphra answered. The woman just didn’t seem the type even if she could talk a big game. Aphra had a knack for knowing suckers and this was a sucker or a soft touch. No intensity in the galaxy could change that. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Her voice was droll.

The chains rattled again as Aphra shrugged.

The woman leaned forward and folded her hands over her knees. “What would it take? For you to tell me about him?”

A kiss, a quick tumble. Aphra had no idea what to actually say; there was nothing at all that she could think of that would entice her to speak. The truth of the matter was she was scared of that bastard and she didn’t know how in the hell to get out of the web he’d tangled up around her. And now she had this woman staring at her like she had all the answers. But Aphra had nothing. Every plan she had didn’t take into account getting captured at this particular moment in time. Maybe in the future she could have helped, when she was secure in her place in the galaxy so long as it was far, far away from Vader. But right now, they had no leverage on her.

Even so, Aphra could only swallow and say, “What do you want to know?” It didn’t mean she’d actually tell the woman anything, but Aphra was curious. What would someone like her want to know about the Emperor’s greatest enforcer?

What could she say? She’d always been a sucker for wounded brown eyes, too.

That would always be her downfall.

“How he is,” she replied, plain. Even so, Aphra couldn’t quite parse it. Sure, she knew what the words meant individually and within the context of other people, but with regard to Vader? Who cared how he was? At this point, he was barely a sentient being under the masks. For all Aphra or anyone else knew, he was that mask. There was nothing beneath it to care about anything except doing the Emperor’s bidding.

“He’s… as Vader-y as he’s ever been,” Aphra answered. That wasn’t a betrayal, she didn’t think. It didn’t tell the woman anything she didn’t already know. “Choking people, stabbing people with a lightsaber, the usual.” She didn’t quite have the heart to say that nobody gave a damn about Vader except insofar as he could destroy them with his mind. For whatever reason, it seemed like it would strike the woman in a crueler manner than Aphra was interested in being. Aphra just wanted out of here; she didn’t want to hurt the woman’s feelings in the process. Her eyes narrowed and the most intriguing thought she’d ever had came to mind. “Do you know him?”

Holy kriffing shit. What if she knew him? Someone had to, right? He couldn’t just have been cooked up in that round clean room of his and brought fully formed into the galaxy by the Emperor. All of a sudden, a million different possibilities opened themselves up to her. She could use that. If this woman knew him… that was something. It might, in fact, have been worth trading her the information she so clearly wanted. Oh, Aphra could tell all sorts of stories about him. Whatever the woman wanted to hear, Aphra could give it to her.

“You know him.” Aphra leaned forward now, too, hoping to keep the avarice off her face long enough to get an answer. There was no reason she had to tip her hand too quickly. She got the feeling this woman knew how to play the game if necessary. Another hunch she couldn’t truly corroborate, but felt all the same. “Don’t you?”

The woman’s eyes cut away, not quite a tell, but not the opposite either. Excitement mounted inside of Aphra as pieces slotted into place. Oh, this was good. This was amazing. This was like the discovery of a lifetime.

“Listen.” Aphra began playing with the chains that held her. “You already knew enough to know that I’m working with him. You have to know what that means.” Make the woman sympathetic, that could work. She seemed like the sort who knew how to be sympathetic. “I can’t just tell you what you really want. I’ll end up dead and so will you and everyone here you care about here will end up dead, too. I need some kind of—”

“Guarantee?” The woman’s mouth twisted slightly.

“A guarantee,” Aphra agreed, pleasant. “Exactly that. I can be reasonable. I’m not an idealogue.”

“You asked my name earlier,” the woman said. “If I give it to you, how do I know you won’t just take it back to Vader?”

“Because I’ll tell you this: he’s desperate to find a boy named Luke Skywalker.” She was pleased with herself until she saw the way the woman blanched and seemed almost as though she was going to be sick. It hadn’t been Aphra’s intention to frighten her, but what she’d said cut her to the bone. Pale as a ghost, she reeled back and dragged a shaking hand across her mouth. Her eyes darted this way and that, as though she didn’t want anyone to have heard Aphra’s words. Now Aphra looked around, too. Were there bugs? Hidden camdroids? She couldn’t see anything, but that meant little in the grand scheme of things. People who wanted to snoop would always find a way and Aphra didn’t exactly have the equipment with her to counterbalance it.

Seriously, though, what was the big deal if he was looking for a kid. A kid that, as far as Aphra knew, was about as old as the first time Vader himself showed up in the Emperor’s court.

Oh.

_Oh._

“No way,” she said, breathless with possibility. This was madness. It seemed entirely impossible. “Is that kid his son? Does Lord Vader have a son?!” But now that she said the words, it felt right. It made total sense. Why else would he be so adamant about getting a hold of the kid? He’d never shown the slightest interest in children before. Well, not except when he was sending an Inquisitor to slaughter the Force sensitive ones.

Aphra frowned. Maybe that was what he was doing? But no, he’d sent Boba Fett, not one of the Inquisitors, so maybe he didn’t want the kid dead and he definitely didn’t want the Emperor to know. She felt secure again that the child was important to him in some way. And was, apparently, important to the woman.

The woman’s fingers caught in a tangle in her lap. She was not able to look at Aphra now. She found it both sad and a little cool. It meant Aphra now had some power over the woman. That meant potential freedom. But it also clearly hurt her to know this piece, the one piece that Aphra had thought the most meaningless to a rebel.

Showed what she knew.

“Who are you?” Aphra prodded, now determined to know. It probably wouldn’t help her any, but the curiosity was too much for her to bear.

The woman sighed and stood. She walked to the corner of the room and crouched to fiddle with a hunk of junk that sat in the corner. Aphra hadn’t even noticed it. Perhaps she should have. Her shoulders arched forward as she hunched as though to protect her against a body blow that was sure to come. Her hair hung in her face as best it could, but it wasn’t nearly enough to cover the fear and anguish that Aphra was able to see in the slightest turn of her face.

Another twinge of guilt worked through Aphra. And she wished she understood better exactly what it was that troubled the woman.

“My name is Padmé,” she said, tripping over her own name as she said it. “I was once the senator from Naboo. I was once a—”

“Holy hells,” Aphra said and now it was obvious. Now it slapped her right in the face. Oh, yes. She recognized the queen of Naboo. It seemed entirely foolish that anyone wouldn’t have recognized that noble face of hers. And yet, she’d fooled Aphra even despite Aphra sensing she was familiar. How tricky. Aphra was both impressed and, for a moment, too taken aback to do anything more than boggle at the woman. Padmé. Padmé Amidala. Queen and senator of Naboo. A rebel now and intensely interested in a boy named Luke Skywalker who might or might not have been Vader’s son.

She still didn’t know how to handle that thought. That Vader could have a son at all seemed impossible. And yet now it was all Aphra could think about.

Nobody could always have been Vader, could they? That had to start somewhere.

Maybe Luke Skywalker was the key.

“I know who you are,” Aphra said. “How did you—why are you—?”

“I fell in love once,” Padmé said, her voice going distant. “With a Jedi knight.”

Both of Aphra’s brows lifted in surprise. “That sounds like a shortcut to heartbreak,” she said before she could stop herself. Every wild tale Aphra had ever heard about the Jedi dredged itself up from her memories. None of the tales ended happily. Tales rarely did. And though she didn’t have any reason to trust them in their entirety, she did know that the Jedi disdained attachments of any kind. Falling in love, then, seemed like a very bad idea.

“What I’m telling you,” Padmé went on, even more serious, “nobody else in the galaxy knows.” There was a hitch in her tone that Aphra couldn’t quite parse. It was probably just how hard it was to talk about this. Spilling secrets, it wasn’t an easy thing to do. And Padmé had clearly been keeping secrets for a very long time. “If I tell you…”

“You need something in return, something solid.” Aphra bit her lip. Would Padmé be able to trust anything Aphra told her? Would this have to be put on hold while Padmé corroborated it. “I’ll be here awhile, I take it?”

“You understand so quickly,” Padmé said, light, like she was trying with all her might to wave the heaviness from the air. It didn’t help much, but Aphra did appreciate the effort. They could understand one another, she thought. They were nothing alike, of course, but Padmé got that there was always a price. “I won’t be able to free you until I know you haven’t given me nothing in return.”

Aphra could only smile in return. “If you’re saying you want to waste your resources protecting me from Vader’s presence,” she said, “who am I to try to stop you?”

Padmé’s brow lifted. “You’ll be our prisoner in the interim, of course.”

“No worse a prisoner than I am currently.” The more she thought of it, the more she liked the possibility. The chance to get to know Padmé even more was enough to tempt her all on its own. “And significantly better if you’d be willing to visit.”

Padmé didn’t so much as blush at the blatant flirtation. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice it at all. Incredible, really. Aphra wasn’t the suavest of individuals, but she could usually get a reaction out of the women she laid her eyes on. Even so, she seemed ever so slightly pleased with the attentions, not enough that Aphra would get more than the smallest smile, but even that felt like a victory. She replied, bland and diplomatic, “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunities to talk to one another in the coming weeks.”

“Weeks.” Aphra tried to imagine everything that could go wrong in such a short span of time. She’d thought days, maybe, while they vetted her intel. Apparently their resources were stretched even thinner than the Empire had projected. Too bad she was going to come out of this cave with a black mark she would never be able to scrub free. Imperial Intelligence would have paid good credits for that kind of confirmation. “With you? Lucky me.”

All that did was get an undignified eye roll out of Padmé that Aphra was perfectly happy to treat as the pinnacle of her achievements in life. Forget about her doctorate, this was where all of her attentions should have gone.

Padmé pushed herself to her feet. It was at this point that Aphra noticed how heavily she favored one side. Her trousers covered her legs, but there was no mistaking the slight difference in the join of her left leg versus the knee of her right. The life of a Partisan was hard. Some said it was harder than the life lead by your run of the mill rebel, who didn’t take such extreme actions against the Imperials. “I’ll see you later, Aphra.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She laughed lightly, the joke well worn even before it escaped her lips. “Thinking about the best song to sing for you.”

She thought for sure that Padmé didn’t intend to say anything else, but she reached the door of the cell and stopped, bowing her head. “Is there any way to bring him back?” she asked.

“Bring him back from what?” Aphra asked, genuinely confused. He may have been someone else before, but she saw not a single sign of it in any of the time she spent with him.

“That’s what I thought.” And Padmé sounded so distraught, gruff and brittle, about it that Aphra was almost certain she was going to cry. That was the last thing Aphra wanted, but that was probably the last thing she could stop from happening. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be back later to continue our discussion.”

Aphra wished there was something else she could say, but she couldn’t even lie and pretend that Vader was salvageable. Whatever he’d been before, that was done and over with. And he hated that this woman who clearly cared for that man felt that way, too. “Wait,” she said. “I think Luke Skywalker is important to him.” Aphra winced, unsure how to better explain herself. “I don’t think he wants to kill him.”

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say and it probably didn’t give Padmé the hope she deserved, but Padmé turned briefly anyway and the smile she offered then was genuine, affectionate. “Thank you. I hope that’s true.”

For Padmé’s sake, Aphra hoped it was.

And maybe for her own, too. If Padmé could fix this, that would solve Aphra’s problems handily. That was, ultimately, why she told Padmé.

At least that was what she told herself as Padmé stepped into the hallway and let the barred door shut behind her.

It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Aphra felt bad for her, no, that she liked her even and wanted to see her get what she wanted. Aphra was far, far too selfish for that. Definitely. Yep.

Okay, so maybe it was. But Aphra had always liked a beautiful woman.


End file.
